


Push

by lilija_the_red



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4736417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilija_the_red/pseuds/lilija_the_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... they make out I guess? Sometimes a drive home can be long...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt fill for the lovely frankisthegod on tumblr ♥

They stumble out of the bar, arm in arm, Jehan’s laugh echoing from the walls as they leave the den behind and step out onto the clear streat. Bahorel laughs, too, his eyes glued to Jehan’s smiling face. He’s concentrating hard to clear his sight, fighting through the fog of the alcohol rushing through his brain and body. Concentrates on Jehan’s face, the bright eyes, crooked smile, full lips, strands of blonde hair hanging loosely around his tanned face.  
Bahorel swallows hard.  
No attention wasted for Feuilly and Grantaire stumbling out behind them, giggling like school boys. They all wander through the dark alley towards the street. A cab is waiting near by and soon they all are crowded inside. Grantaire scored shotgun, leaving Feuilly, Bahorel and Jehan to squeeze themselves into the back. Not as easy as it could be when you are over 1, 90 m like Bahorel, but he doesn’t mind and folds himself next to Feuilly, closely followed by Jehan hopping in, too. The cab starts moving, Grantaire taking over the talk-duty, but Bahorel doesn’t notice, too wound up in the presence of Jehan. Jehan has been talking all this time, but Bahorel’s mind has wandered off somewhere, too loud the outside and the noises of the old cab, too loud the blood rushing through his ears… dear god even the heat radiating from Jehan’s body seems to make sounds! But he admires Jehan’s talking, although he doesn’t hear the words.  
Only interrupted by the cab stopping abruptly with squeaking tires and then Feuilly and Grantaire are gone. Suddenly he’s alone with Jehan. With largely enough room for both of them, too. But neither makes a move, staying pressed against each other’s sides. Bahorel doesn’t mind. Except for he does, he suddenly thinks. Jehan’s warmth turns into heat next to him, it drives him crazy, blood rushing through his veins. It drives hims wild. Just as the steady thrumming of Jehan’s feet, stepping a beat on the cab’s floor, sending multiple shivers through Bahorel’s whole body. And just like this the cab feels very small all over again. Jehan chuckles, causing Bahorel’s focus to drift back on him again. Jehan smiles, biting his lip softly and it’s just too much. Bahorel could think of many places he’d rather be with Jehan right now than this cab. His flat for example. Precisely the bedroom. When will the drive finally end?!

Finally, FINALLY the car stops and they find themselves in the cold night air again. But not for long. Jehan takes his hand, strong fingers curling around his big ones, tugging him along. Bahorel follows him inside and up the stairs. Adrenaline’s rushing through his body as they go higher, and also closer to Jehan’s flat. Finally they reach the door. Jehan’s fumbling in his jeans, those far too tight jeans, JESUS, finally fishing out his key, but dropping it immediately. When he bends over to get it, Bahorel groans lowly, earning himself a startled look from Jehan. The startled look soon is switched with a mischevious grin, causing Bahorel’s pulse to quicken up even more. Jehan’s taking his time with standing up, slowly dusting of his perfectly clean jeans, having all time of this world to open the door. Bahorel is practically bouncing by now. When the door finally clicks, he as much as shoves Jehan inside, letting the door fall shut carelessly. Jehan giggles softly, blowing a strand out of his face, grinning widely at Bahorel.  
He takes it all in. Jehan’s back is pressed against the wall, cocking up his head almost daring Bahorel to make his move, their bodies only inches apart. ‘Still too much’, Bahorel thinks, crowding closer into Jehan’s personal space. Suddenly Jehan’s hands sneak up around Bahorel’s neck, pulling him even closer.  
It’s dark inside the flat, the only source of light being an old street outside. The shady light casts shadows over Jehan’s face, making his eyes shine, a smile still sitting on his lips…  
He wants to kiss the look away, wants these lips on his, wants them to call his name, gasp for air. Wants their bodies closer together, skin on skin … Gosh, he needs to be so much closer! He lets his fingers run up Jehan’s waist, up to his shoulders, resting there. He can feel Jehan move underneath him, can feel him pressing his hips against his own. And he can feel his errection matching his own. A grunt escapes Bahorel’s throat. Jehan grins, curling his hands deeper into Bahorel’s hair.  
Bahorel stares into the dark eyes and recalls the events of the night. All those little unneeded touches, those little private smiles, only for him. And then this fucker started quoting poetry… EROTIC POETRY! Adding all those little grunts and groans and those face pointed directly at him, Bahorel, weren’t definitely not needed! Like at all!  
It had taken him every fiber of his body not to give in just there.  
‘But now they are alone’, he thinks, 'so why holding back now?’ Jehan seems to agree as he rolls his hips against Bahorel once more, reminidng him of his very prominent boner. A grin tilts Bahorel’s lip up. He takes his hands off of Jehan’s shoulders, carefully untangling Jehan’s fingers from his own neck. He lets his thumb run slowly over the inner side of Jehan’s wrist, taking in the shiver that runs through Jehan’s body; pleased. His next moves are quick, like an attack in the ring, he darts forwards pushing the wrists left and right next to Jehan’s head, his face close enough to feel the shortened breath of the smaller man. He took Jehan by surprise, but he’s not done yet. He has to take revenge for a former whole evening of evil teasing after all, he thinks as he brings his lips to Jehan’s throat, not yet kissing but CLOSE….  
Bahorel has to reach fown for him beeing much bigger than Jehan, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. He let his lips hover over the tanned skin, pleased as he can feel Jehan squirm underneath him, aching forward. A chuckle escapes him as he hears a small curse leaving Jehan’s mouth. When he finally closes the gap between lips and skin, Jehan as much as slouches down, only held in place by Bahorel’s hands still on his wrists. Fascinated by how it makes Jehan squirm, Bahorel lets his mouth and tongue run over skin, experimenting. Hovering, sucking lightly until it’s not enough anymore, he needs more. Jehan too, if the amount of cursing is anything to go by. So he abandons the throat for Jehan’s mouth. Jehan is leaning into him, greadily, sucking at his lips, biting softly. It’s open, hot, wet. Messy and… perfect. Bahorel smiles into the kiss, fighting down a chuckle. He lets go off Jehan’s wrists, sliding their fingers together, pressing lightly. Jehan presses back. Bahorel’s lost as Jehan takes over, tongue darting forward, hungry for more. Suddenly it’s Bahorel being hold in place. Bodies pressed together so closely, they almost merge.  
When they finally break apart they are both panting heavily, eyes dark and clouded. They’re mouth are swollen, with mathing smiles sitting on the face.

“Is it just me, or is it really really warm in here? Did you leave the heating on, mh?”  
“Heating’s broken”, Jehan says, shrugging, a grin spreading over his face.  
“Oh…”, Bahorel replies. “Oh!” He laughs as Jehan starts unplucking the buttons on Bahorel’s shirt.  
‘I can get behind this’, he thinks, starting to undo Jehan’s fly. ‘Oh yes he can get behind this’, he thinks as he looks into Jehan’s eyes.


End file.
